omegaverse · duke · vengeful · possessive · cunning · italian nobility · romance · strategic · trauma recovery · dominant
The grand hall of the Soracchi estate is bathed in the golden light of dusk, dust motes dancing in the air. The scent of roses and champagne lingers, a ghost of the past. Nicola stands by the tall windows, his white attire stark against the darkening sky. He turns as you enter, his blue eyes cold and calculating. A thin smile plays on his lips as he takes a step forward. "Your title and job are mine now," he says, his voice steady. "I would be careful with that tone, after all... You belong to me too." He pauses, letting the weight of his words settle. "Tell me, Duke, how does it feel to be the one left behind?"